Chris of the Dead
by Firebird41
Summary: Crossover of Resident Evil & Shaun of the Dead. Basically Shaun of the Dead with Resident Evil themes. 'fraid it's not too original, nor is it canon, so shoot. UPDATE: What am i doing? This is the last bit that i'll probably ever write for this.
1. Prologue

**A.N. – I just want to let everyone know that when I wrote this, I didn't have a clue to when Chris shows up to save his sister in Antarctica, so forgive me if it's not really canon or anything like that.**

Disclaimer-I don't even know why I have to say this but I only own the story, shit I don't even own the story, except for tiny bits here and there. Everything else belongs to Capcom, Universal Pictures Studiocanal and Working Title.

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(Sentences in _Italics_ usually mean thoughts.) 

Prologue

Chris lifted the cup to his mouth, the smell of beer rising to his nose. After taking a sip he place the cup back down on the table and returned to thinking about his life six months ago…

**November 18, 2002**

He had hit an all time low in his life. It had been about four years ago that he moved to the Britain to do research on Umbrella. Up till then he had found nothing. Apparently, Umbrella had heard about what happened at the Spencer Estate Mansion and what happened in the months that followed. Umbrella seemed to be scrambling to make sure nothing leaked out. Even with the help of Chris' old college buddy, Pete, he barely found anything.

Chris had met Pete back in the U.S. in college, sometime before joining the Special Tactics and Rescue Squad (S.T.A.R.S.). Pete was from Britain. He was a well built man; tall, about six foot. Black hair topped off his head and obviously, he was white. Chris saw him as a nice guy; occasionally he was quite friendly, having let Chris move in his house. It was a good arrangement; Pete, after signing with Umbrella had bought his own house, therefore, Umbrella couldn't do too much if Pete, or anyone else, was on _his_ own property. It also gave Chris a place to stay since Chris didn't really know where to go. And, after hearing the atrocities committed, Pete willingly agreed to crush Umbrella.

Having big dreams, and good tastes, Pete had returned home after college seeking a job with Umbrella. The job wasn't that high up, but it was good enough for Pete, just so that he could say he worked for the "infamous" Umbrella Inc. At least he was closer to having that giant house on the country side, full of hookers… As a college student there wasn't too much on his mind besides being rich and screwing. Even after college he still wished he had that pimp cane and gaggle of hoes. But, being a loyal friend, he vowed himself to helping Chris first. But that was four years ago.

Even though they were good friends, Pete was growing tired of Chris' presence. Four years ago, when Chris moved in, Chris had promised that he wouldn't stay for too long and that he would eventually get his own place, obviously he hadn't moved out yet. Pete was also growing tired of Chris pestering him for documents that would take weeks to get a hold of. There were so many other things that Chris did, and Chris new it. That's why, shortly after moving in, Chris applied to a small electronics shop. In the four years he had become assistant manager. It was something he should've been proud of. But there was still one big thing fueling his depression.

Jill. He had felt terrible, leaving her behind. The first year had been confident that she had made it out; she was a strong woman, capable of taking care of herself. But as time passed, his hope dwindled until, at last, he submitted to his own fears and took in the belief that she had, in fact died. It wasn't until about a week later that his life decided to turn around.

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**November 23, 2002**

Chris had been at the back of the store, attempting to sell to a potential customer. This person kept pulling ridiculous questions, questions that strained Chris' ability to be a salesman. _Why can't they just take my word for it? _ding The bell on the front door rang signaling a customer had just entered. He couldn't see, but could hear her. _Hmm…sounds alright. Nice voice kinda…familiar…_

Chris had a sudden thought. _What if…?_ "I'll be right back," he notified the customer. As he moved to the front he could hear one of the younger salesmen talking –no, flirting –with her. Chris shook his head; he could tell by the way she spoke that this woman was only interested in the electronics. _Sad._ Chris smirked. Chris came out behind the woman and quietly studied her. She was beautiful, from what he could tell from her backside anyway. He watched the way she moved and listened to the way she spoke, all the while a feeling in his gut growing bigger. _Come on, say something!_

"How is everything, Chuck?" Chris asked, not so much to ask Chuck, but to gain the woman's attention. And as he hoped she spun around to meet him.

His heart stopped. "Jill…" There was a silence between the two of them as Chris struggled to find the right words; the only sound was a radio that was playing somewhere in the store. So far the best things he came up with was, "Are you ok-"

She cut him off, embracing him and burying her head into his shoulder. Chris, after being surprised, put his arm around her waist and held her.

"Don't…ever…leave again, understand?" she said, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. Chris nodded, "Yeah." _What's wrong with me?_ It was the best he could think of. Somewhere in the store the song "Reunited" began playing. They let go and Chris stared of towards the music.

"Kinda, coincidental, huh," Chris offered.

Jill nodded, "Just a little bit."

"Wait, you yanks know each other," asked a dumbfounded Chuck.

"Uh, yeah. We just haven't seen each other in awhile."

"Obviously," Chuck said dubiously.

Chris looked at his watch. "So, you hungry Jill? Lunch is on me," Chris suggested.

"Sure," Jill answered, smiling. Locking arms, the two walked out headed towards a small café, leaving a stunned chuck behind.

The moment the two sat down, they began to discuss everything that had occurred in their lives over the past four years. Jill had obviously survived Raccoon City and had actually been living in Britain for a little more than a year having rented a "flat" a few "kilometers" from Chris.

"So you're doin alright for yourself," Chris commented.

Since then they engaged in the relationship they never started before, going out all the way to this day…

"Chris…"

"Yeah," Chris now focused on Jill.

"So do see what I'm saying…"

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A.N. Alright let me no what you think, good and bad. I don't want just this one sentence stuff i want to know why it's bad/good. And if you've never heard the song "Reunited", you should, it's a funny song. 


	2. At the Winchester

A.N. Alright, last chapter, not so funny. I'm working at it so bare with me.

Disclaimer: You know what I said before.

(_Italic Sentences_ thoughts of Chris)

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Chapter 1: At the Winchester

"So do you see what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, totally," Chris said, nodding his head.

"I mean, I know he's your best friend, but you do live with him," Jill stated.

"I know," Chris sighed, nodding again.

"I mean, it's not that I don't like Ed. Ed…" Jill turned her head toward the fat man playing the arcade game in the middle of the pub, "…it's not that I don't like you."

"It's alright," Ed replied.

Shortly before moving in with Pete, Chris had run into Ed. Ed was, in every sense of the word, a slob. Having become Chris' friend, he took full advantage of Pete's generosity and became a freeloader in Pete's house; most of the time he was laying about the house playing on their PS2 or drinking. To be frank, he didn't give a damn about Pete or anything that Pete owned, as Chris was the only reason Ed was in Pete's house. He also smoked, which gave Pete another reason to loathe him. It seemed to be Ed's duty to continually piss Pete off by any means necessary. But when not being an ass to Pete he was goofing off with Chris and, occasionally, Jill.

"It just would be nice if we could –" Jill, paused.

"Fuck," Ed cursed.

"Spend a little more time together, just the two of us," Jill finished.

"Well, you know, it's not that I don't like David and Di. I mean, guys," Chris looked over at the couple sitting next to Jill, "It's not that I don't like you."

"It's alright," the two said in unison.

David and Diana, like Pete, were friends of Jill from a past life. David was a pacifist and usually liked to think things over before acting. This meant that he was usually hesitant in doing things he was unsure of, especially if he thought he was right or in a better position. And Chris had a sneaking suspicious that he had a thing for Jill. Diana was a little more pliable, as in she was more willing to do whatever was needed to do. One could also say she was a little selfish, putting herself first at times.

"And it's not that I don't want to spend anytime with because I do…It's just that Ed doesn't have any real friends," Chris explained.

"What about that 'Pete' guy, don't they get along? I mean, isn't Pete _gay_?" A small, mischievous grin slowly grew upon her face.

"What? Pete isn't gay...I don't think." Chris suddenly began having thoughts about why Pete willingly let two _men_ move into his house. "Why do you...did you do something?"

"I may have said something, once, when I called." Chris stared at her in awe.

"Can I get, any of you cunts, a drink? Anybody," Ed asked, bluntly, "Alright." Ed took a drag from his cigarette and sprinkled the ash in Chris' beer.

''ED! What the hell?'' Chris cried.

''Woops! Sorry, man.'' Both Chris and Jill watched in disgust as Ed drank the tainted beer. Ed cringed as he downed the last drop and shot an upset galnce at Chris. ''There are you happy? I'll even buy you a new one.'' Ed turned around and wandered off to the bar.

"I know friends are important to Chris, but it is important that you two schedule some time for yourselves," David interrupted, right before Jill said anything. Apparently, David had already recovered from the shock.

"Yeah, I mean Davs is always taking me to see these historical buildings and I'm always dragging him to the theater," Diana offered.

_Buildings? What the hell?_

"I'm not too much into theater," Chris returned.

"Well, what about your anniversary, it's coming up, isn't it?"

"It was last week," David corrected.

"Oh, didn't you guys do something special?"

"We came here," Jill said sadly as Chris turned to catch a pack of peanuts with his face. "Chris what I'm saying is I want to do more, you know? Ever since what we went through back home, I've wanted to do more exciting stuff, rather than come here every night to the Winchester. I know it sounds a little crazy but, you know what talking about, right? I want us to have fun, have excitement and I want you to want to, _want to_, do it too!"

Chris looked back at her while chewing a peanut.

"Oh, listen to me; I'm starting to sound like your mom, not that I'd know what she'd sound like."

"You haven't met his mum," David interjected.

"My 'mum' is dead. All I have is an aunt, who's like my mom," Chris said, dryly.

After their parents died (when that happened, I don't know, but I'm just speculating), their aunt, Barbara took care of them (them being Chris and his sister, Claire) as if she was their mom. She was a nice lady, obviously, taking in her nephew and niece. There were also times when she seemed a bit oblivious to matters at hand; sometimes she wouldn't understand a problem when it was so simple or would completely dismiss something huge. But other than that Chris loved her the way he would love his mom. Although he still didn't agree with her about Philip. When Chris was twelve years old, his aunt married an 'Englishman' named Philip. And, after Chris and his sister could live by themselves, Philip took back to Britain. After Chris moved to Britain, he was relieved to know that she lived in same city, as did Jill and everyone else; in London.

"So, you haven't met his aunt?" David asked, trying not to sound insensitive.

"Not yet," Chris replied.

"Do you have a problem with your aunt?" Diana sounded concerned.

"No! I love my aunt!" Chris looked somewhat appalled.

Ed came in behind Chris. "Hmm…_I_ love his aunt. She's like buuttta!" Ed licked his lips as if had just eaten something delicious. He then picked his nose and flung a rather large booger at David, who cringed at the sight.

"Ed!" Chris looked disgusted.

"Chris," David and Di called in unison.

"Guys…"

"Chris," this time it was Jill.

"Jill…" Chris was suddenly overwhelmed by the amount of people calling his name, "Look, I understand what you're all saying, and I agree.

We should get out there. Tomorrow, I'll book a restaurant, you know, that place that does all the fish. And it'll just be the two us. Things will change, I promise."

"Really, Chris?" Jill asked with a bit of a smile on her face.

Chris nodded as the bell calling for last orders rang.

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A.N. Sorry, I know it's slow, but it's gonna be like this for a few more chapters. It'll be better once i work the zombies in. Any way you know what kind of reviews i want. Yes that means i want REVIEWS! 


	3. Strange Sightings

A.N. Wow, is this a bad story or what? Anyway, I've already started it so I have to finish it. This has some original bits in it, other wise it's the same as the first two chapters.

Disclaimer: …what?

_Italics are thoughts of Chris_

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Chapter 2: Strange Sightings

Morning. Chris shuffled through the living room door, pausing to yawn, making all kinds of strange groaning sounds, as he normally did. No, he didn't have any sort of hangover; he wasn't really a morning person, never was. Upon entering the living room, he found Ed playing Time Splitters 2 on their PS2. Chris grunted as he sat down next to Ed and grabbed the other controller. 'Player two has entered the game.'

"Don't you have work?" Ed mumbled. 'Player two has left the game.'

Chris mumbled something unintelligent before heading to the up-stairs bathroom. He then began his morning routine: first, his morning evacuation, second, brushing his teeth, and third, washing his face. Chris came up form the sink to look himself over in the medicine cabinet mirror. He ran his hand through his dark hair, making sure he looked good for the work day. He clipped on his work ID, and fixed his tie, looking himself over again. Satisfied, he pushed the medicine completely closed, revealing the rest of the shower and Pete standing behind him.

"You do know the front door was left open, again, last night," Pete stated in a displeased tone.

The two now stood in the kitchen. Pete had just poured himself a cup of coffee while Chris had just scraped some jelly on toast.

"I'm not saying it was you…," Pete began.

"I know, man," Chris said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand.

"…I'm saying it was Ed," Pete finished, sternly.

"Oh." Chris bit off a piece of toast. It was then that he noticed Pete looking at something other than his face. Following Pete's gaze he found some Umbrella documents on the table. "Those new?"

"Yeah."

"I'll look at them later." Chris went back to chewing his toast, a randow thought occruing in his head. "Hey Pete? Were you with a woman last night?"

"What?" Pete asked quickly.

"Yeah, well, your door was open last night and I could have sworn I saw a...woman," _more like a man_, "dancing around your room. Yes, she was dancing and singing, I think. Don't you remember-"

"No!" Pete interupted, almost shouting. Chris eyed him suspiciously. "I mean, no, I must have been drunk last night. Yeah, that's it. And she must have let herself out before any woke up."

"So _she_ probably left the door open," Chris said smiling. But underneath that smile, there was a growing suspicion.

Pete paced around the kitchen and sighed, "I can't live like this anymore. I mean, just look at the state of us. We aren't students anymore. And it's not like Ed brings in any sort of income."

_Yeah he does, not exactly legal though…_ "He brings in a little bit; he sells a bit of weed now and again." Chris saw the look of disapproval on Pete's face. "Oh come on, you've sold a bit of pot before."

"Yeah once. At college, to you." Pete sipped his coffee, facial expression unchanging.

"Well, I like having him around, he's a laugh," Chris tried to reason.

"What; Just because he can impersonate an orangutan? Fuck-a-doodle-doo," Pete said flatly.

"Oh leave him alone." This was Chris' life at home, always defending Ed.

"Alright, I admit it is a bit funny, like that time we stayed up all night drinking Apple Snaps and playing Teken 2." Pete smiled.

Chris, slightly remembering this night, chuckled, as well. "Oh yeah! When was that?"

"About three years ago," this time Pete looked serious; smile gone and previous happy disposition nonexistent, "When's he goin' home?"

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Chris sighed to himself as he walked over to the living room. _He doesn't really _need_ to go, does he? _Chris stood at the side of the couch, watching Ed. He then saw the big mess of beer cans, candy wrappers, and chip bags lying on and about the coffee table. _Okay maybe he _could_ at least clean up. _

"Ed…" Pete walked into the room. "Since your not working could you clean up a bit? And while your at it could you also take down everyone's messages instead of just your? It's not that taxing is it, writing something down on a little scrap of paper?"

"Nope," Ed said vacantly.

Pete patted Ed on the back. Pete then turned around revealing a piece of paper on his back that said 'I AM A PRICK'. Chris frowned.

"Oh, come on, it was funny," Ed laughed.

"Will you do what he says?" Chris asked.

"I ain't doin nothin' for 'im."

"Could you just do it? I know you don't want to be kicked out," Chris asserted.

"That prick said he would kick me out?" Ed turned around, a look on his face saying that perhaps he might "take care" of Pete later.

"Yeah, so could you just do it?" Chris asked before turning to leave. Just then Ed called his name.

"I'm sorry, Chris."

"No, it's okay," Chris waved off.

"No no, I'm _sorry_, Chris." Chris suddenly became suspicious of Ed. _What's he talking about? Why's he sorr –_ A terrible smell attacked Chris' senses.

"AAUUGGHH! That's awful!" Chris covered his nose while at the same time laughing. It was amazing what could come out of Ed. The fart was so bad that in Chris' mind it rivaled the smell of the zombies.

"I'll stop doin that when you stop laughing."

"I'm not laughing."

"Oh hey could you get that new survival horror game it's called…um," Ed paused to think, "Dawn of the Dead! They just ported it from the old Playstation."

"Maybe…" _Survival horror? You want to know survival horror look into my past. What kind of title is 'Dawn of the Dead' anyway, why not 'Resident Evil' or something? _The phone rang as Chris headed out the door. "The phone!"

"Get it," Ed said lazily.

"You get it!" And Chris was gone. Ed didn't bother with the phone, instead letting the answering machine pick it up. It was Jill, "_Chris? Chris? Oh well. Jill calling, just wanted to let you know that I'll be a little busy so could you make the reservations at eight instead of seven? Okay, I'll try you at work. See you tonight!"_

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Chris walked into the Speed-E-Mart down the street from his house. _That kid better find a better place to play…_ Of course, Chris was referring to the little boy who played with his soccer ball outside the house. This morning he had hit Chris with the ball. Scratching his head, Chris walked down the aisle towards refrigerator to grab a can of Coke. It was just something for the day. He then walked back to the vacant front counter and called for Apu, the Indian immigrant owner. A random news paper caught his eye, a head line reading 'Havoc!' another reading 'Mutilated Remains'. But before he could actually think about it, Apu popped up from nowhere, smile on his face as usual.

"Hello, Mr. Chris! No beer today?" Apu rang up Chris' purchase.

Chris smiled back. "Naw it's a little early for me." Opening the can of Coke, Chris left the store.

"Thank you, come again!" Apu called after him.

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Chris entered the little electronics shop, Foree Electronic, still trying to comprehend what he saw on the bus ride to work. He had looked out the window, noticing he was nearing work. They were passing by another bus stop on the opposite side. There, Chris saw, a woman, looking perfectly healthy, just faint. And that was just it; she wasn't hit, no one did anything to incite this she just fainted. Plus there was that newspaper article. _What was that newspaper article all about?_ _Could it be? No, no, no, they wouldn't do that _here_, they can't! But why wouldn't they, they did it before…_ The thought was slowly frustrating Chris. _No. It's nothing; just…let's get to work._ He walked to the back and punched himself in. Looking at the attendance sheet he noticed that Mr. Sloan, and Ash were gone. Chris sighed. _I guess that means I'm the boss today._ He grabbed the employee sheet and walked to the front of the store.

"Everyone! Employees, gather 'round, everyone, gather round. Now as well as Mr. Sloan, Ash is feeling under the weather so I will be taking charge as the –"

"Oldest…" One of the younger guys, Noel, interrupted.

" –the _senior_ staff member. So perhaps we could pull together, you know we –," a cell phone went off, thus interrupting Chris again. It was Noel's.

" 'Ello, mate!" Chris frowned, grinding his teeth. The guy, _kid_, had only been there for about three days and was already pissing him off. He was always receiving calls from his "mate" in the middle of things, like this. _I should fire him, just for this. _No, he wouldn't. But it was awfully fun to think about.

"Arright, mate. Later." Noel finished his conversation. "Continue."

"Thank you. Now, as Mr. Sloman says, 'There is no "I" in team, but there is an "I" in pie, there's an "I" in meat pie'. "Meat" is the anagram of "team", I don't know what he's talking about, that's it." The employees slowly dispersed, while Noel went back to his phone. "And Noel, turn off that cell phone it's not a social gathering."

"Alright, keep your hair on, granddad."

"Hey, hey whoa! I'm 29 for chrissakes; how old are you? Twenty? Twenty-one?"

"Seventeen."

_Seventeen? What the heck is it with this country?_ "Oh…well, okay."

About a half hour or so later Chris had some customers on his hands. He was showing them the basic digital cable package. He flipped through the channels showing them different channels they could get; the current channel they were looking at was the Life Style channel, then a weird game show channel with an obnoxious sounding host, and then the news channels. As he flipped through the news he began to notice a theme generating from the news channels: men in chemical suites, Umbrella biohazard trucks, field reporters speaking of some deadly disease, perhaps a _virus._ Chris slowed his sales pitch to concentrate on the news before he was interrupted by Noel.

"Hey, I'm with customers!"

"It's yer Dad." Noel pointed to the man looking at waffle irons.

"He's not my dad," Chris said to the customers, "He's my step-uncle." _Step uncle? Is there even such a thing?_ Chris stepped over to him, obviously this man wanted something. The man turned, revealing to Chris that it was Philip, his "step" uncle.

"Chris, I trust you haven't forgotten about tomorrow, your bi-monthly visit."

"No, I haven't forgotten," Chris followed, looking Philip in the eye.

"Maybe you could bring the flowers you forgot to bring Barbara on _Mother's_ Day."

Chris frowned, "I wasn't gonna."

"And don't just make it a cheap tulip you picked up at a the corner of a garage."

"I wasn't gonna." Chris stared back in to his uncle's eyes.

"Then, we look forward to seeing you tomorrow." Philip turned and left the store. As he walked out, Chris noticed some biohazard trucks, the same that he had just seen on T.V., drive by. It made him forget about the meeting with his uncle, but it disturbed him to a deeper point.

"I thought you said this wasn't a social gathering." Noel popped up from nowhere.

"It wasn't…it was an emergency," Chris lied.

"What like buying your aunt some flowers?" Noel smirked.

"No, no matter what you may think, I don't find it difficult to keep my work life and my social life separate." Chris stared Noel down, ready to pull rank.

"Chris," someone called lifting a phone to Chris' face, "It's Jill for you." Chris snatched the phone and put it to his ear while still staring at Noel. "Hello?"

"_Hey, it's me, Jill."_

"Hello."

"_Did you get my message?_"

"Yep," Chris said absentmindedly, still focusing on Noel.

"_Oh, so it's alright, then? Eight o' clock it is, then?_"

"Yep," Chris said, not really paying attention, making the bullet-to-the-brain hand gesture.

"_Oh, good!_ _Call me later, then._"

"Goodbye, Jill."

"_Goodbye, Chris, talk to you later."_

Chris hung up the phone. "It was just Jill calling from the office. Nothing important." Chris went back to help out his previous customers and stopped, yet again hearing the ring tone of Noel's cell phone. _That's it. I've had enough with him and his 'mate'._

"Noel, follow me, I want to talk to you." Meanwhile a devious plot developed in his mind. _I'll teach this kid to answer his phone at work._

"Ay, I'll talk to ya later, mate; grandad want's to talk to me."_  
_

Chris checked his watch. _Hmm...It's been ten seconds. _Chris counted off five more seconds before pulling Noel's screaming head out of the toilet, brown smudges covering Noel's face.

"Oh, sorry about that. Here, wash yourself off." Chris put him under again, this time flushing the toilet. This time Noel could swear something weird was going on around his...'unmentionable' hole. Chris pulled him back out, Noel gasping for air.

"YOU...-gasp-...this is harasement! -cough- I'll call the -cough- police!" Noel threatened. Chris laughed in his face.

"You can't do anything to me! Because I'm not exactly 'boss' you can't touch me!" This was a lie, of course, and if Noel was smart enough to figure this out, Chris would have a lawsuit on his hands. "You can't call the cops anyway, unless you can make calls from your ass! And if you really want to do something to me, go see if your mate will reach up your ass and grab your damn phone!" Noel's mouth hung open, inciting a small amount of pity to form within Chris.

"I think I'll go back to work now," Noel said, broken.

"Hey, before you do that, wash yourself up, for real. You smell like shit."

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Chris looked out the window of the flower shop, scratching his head as a man ran passed, looking behind him as if being chased. Work was over, all he needed to do was get flowers for his aunt and he would be set for the rest of the night, or so he thought. Woman at the desk brought out some cards to put in the flowers. He told her that it was for his mom so on one of the cards it said "To a wonderful mom" and the other said "My pal, super mom". Chris chose the first one and continued to look outside the window. _I hope Barbara likes these so Philip quits hassling me…Wait what the hell?_ A strange man, swatting pigeons outside, caught Chris attention. He looked somewhat normal, maybe a bit pale although his movements seemed jerky almost like…_ NO! No. He's just crazy, yeah, he's just…_Chris stared in disgust as the man managed to grab a pigeon and moved to bite its head off. But before he anything happened a bus passed and once the bus was away so was the man. _It's nothing._ Chris paid for the flowers, and left the shop to catch a bus home.

_What now?_ The bus had stopped behind a jam of cars. Wanting to get home, Chris decided to just walk it. The line of cars continued on up the car that was causing the back up; there was no actual accident apparently, although it did look as if the driver was _dead_…

"Chris!"

"What?" Chris looked up to see a woman shouting his name, "Oh hey Yvonne!"

Yvonne was another friend Chris made upon moving to the country; in fact she was the first. She was there before Ed and had helped him find his way around. After meeting Ed, Yvonne parted and it was just Ed and Chris after that. There wasn't too much he knew about Yvonne, just that she reminded him slightly of himself.

"How ya doin?" Yvonne asked excitedly.

"Surviving."

"So you live around here now. Great! Did you find, um, oh what's-her-name, you mentioned her when we met?"

"Jill. Yeah I found her and now we're going out."

"Oh, that's great. At least someone made it. How long have you been with her?"

"Uh, six months last week."

"Oh you do anything special?"

"Actually we're going out to eat tonight."

"Ooh, somewhere nice I hope."

It was then that something clicked in Chris' mind. "Yeah…" _Oh, shit._ "I'll see you some time okay!" Chris shouted as he ran off down the street to the house.

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A.N. These next few chapters are gonna be a bit different. See, i've decided to put my own twist on things, just for a little bit. Unless I get protests of no in reviews, it goes ahead as planned.  



	4. Chapter 4

A.N. I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I mean, I've put this off for so long that I might as well have abdoned it, yet I updated. I mean, I've got other stories to write, two actually that I'd like to eally finish. Shit. Eh, I might as well. I wrote this chapter a while back before dropping it from my 'To Update' list in my head anyways. This chapter I decided just to make it my own chapter. Yes that's right, i'm changing the story line so it seems more orginal. But then I think I'll just do us all a favor and take this story down.

* * *

Chapter 3: Breaking Up…or Do They?

Chris ripped the door open and grabbed the phone. He reached out for the directory, thumbed through it quickly and placed his finger on the restaurant number. Dialing quickly he put the phone to his here, impatient for them to pick up. "COME ON!"

"Are you gonna thank me?" Ed turned around from the video game.

"For what?"

"Tidying up," Ed said somewhat triumphantly.

"No you didn't," Chris said pointing out the beers cans on the table, the phone still ringing.

"I had a few beers when I got done."

Then someone picked up.

"Oh hello!"

"_Please hold,_" came the voice on the other line. _Damn it!_ Chris was growing nervous. He needed this table. He _had_ to have this table.

"I got your messages."

"What?"

"Well, your aunt rang about going over there tomorrow night. Then _Jill_ rang about going out to eat tonight. Then your aunt rang back and asked me if I wanted to eat _her_ out tonight." Ed smiled at the last one.

"WHAT?!"

"_Hello?_"

"Oh, um, hi, I know this is short notice but, uh, I was wondering if you could give me a table for two, for tonight, at about eight?" Chris crossed his fingers. _Oh please, oh please…_

"_...uh, yeah. We have one last table. Now what's your name, and how many this is for?"_

_OH THANK YOU!_

Chris breathed a sigh of relief. "Uh, yeah my name is…"

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Chris hung up the phone, having reservations all set up. He'd done what he had to do; Jill wouldn't be mad, and he could continue living his life as normal (if one could call it normal). _I have to get ready._ Chris rushed upstairs, looking for something suitable to wear. Not being too picky, he put on a white dress shirt, similar to his work shirt but with full length arms and slipped on a pair of jeans (try to imagine Bruce Almighty after he changes with the manikin. I'm a guy that's doesn't know too much about fashion, I don't know what he should wear). Next stop, the bathroom, he still had to brush his teeth and wash his face.

"You should have just gone to the Winchester," Ed said as Chris came back downstairs.

"Are you crazy? They don't do food. And why would I go there if I already have this?" Chris raised a brow.

"Fine then, _gay_…" Chris ignored him. He'd remembered the sad look in Jill's eyes while telling him of the many things she wanted to do, giving Chris another incentive to go somewhere _else_. "Oh, since Pete won't be back from work for a while, and you won't be either, can I…"

"No, you can't come." Chris stated firmly.

"You won't even notice I'm there!"

"No, you can't come! I'm sorry, but I really value this relationship and so, like I promised her, it's just gonna be the two of us." That was it. Ed wouldn't ruin it, even if they were best friends. The phone rang.

"Hello?"

"_Hi, it's me, Jill_."

"Hey, you ready?"

"_Almost... You coming soon?_"

"Yup. I told you things would change," Chris said, smiling. "I'll be over soon, babe, just keep getting ready."

"_Okay, see ya when you get here_." click

Chris turned to Ed, a wide grin on his face.

"Alright Ed, you know where to find me." Chris left, and set out to find a taxi, leaving Ed standing at the door.

"Yeah, I _do_ know where to find you."

------------------------------------------------

Chris entered the warm restaurant, Jill standing beside him. To Chris, the place was almost alien in that he had always gone to the Winchester. To Jill, it was an escape from the smoky, dark pub that was the Winchester. Chris slowly scanned the restaurant. The tight carpet was a dark shade of blue, almost black. The walls were a lighter blue, just a little darker than sky blue, with white trim to accent. The drapes were also an aqua blue. The ceiling, however, was a little more complex; it was still blue, but instead it was as if one was staring in to the depths of the ocean. It was quite hypnotizing in that one could forget about their food if they looked at the ceiling long enough. It became clear to him that even if one didn't know this was a seafood place, one would find out very quickly. As for its layout, it was had the standard rectangular shape, with some places higher or lower to remove the monotony of an even floor. Lining most of the walls were booths, and on the floor, tables ranged from large circular tables, for large parties, to small two person square tables. Chris' eyes finally landed on the front desk. To greet them, there was a short Asian fellow working behind a rather large desk. As the two moved closer, both fought to stifle laughs as they were able to get a closer look at him, seeing as the man looked as if he had a bikini wax on his face.

"Herro, can I hep you?" the man asked, forcing strong accent. It was awful, and the two knew it. Forcing back a laugh, Chris approached him.

"Um…I'm Chris Redfield. I had reservations for eight?"

"Hode on jus won meenet, I'm going to check da computa." Chris exchanged glances with Jill. She was fighting it too, he could see it in her eyes and the way she held her lips together tightly. "Oh, resss, righ heuh. You say you Chree Refeel?" Jill smiled at Chris.

"…Yeah, I'm 'Chree Refeel'!" Chris laughed in the man's face, unable to contain it any longer. Jill playfully hit him, however, still smiling.

"Okay, would it help if I just talked like this?" The Asian man inquired, his accent suddenly changing to that of an 'Englishman'. Chris immediately stopped laughing, his enjoyment suddenly killed.

"Oh…um, yeah. Sorry about the whole laughing-in-the-face thing. Why do you talk that way, anyway?"

"My boss says it fits," the Asian man said, pointing out his Asian-ness. "Anyway, I have your name right here, 'Chris Redfield'. You're lucky, this was our last table. Someone else called right after you did looking for reservations, too." The Asian man reached behind the desk, grabbing menus. "Follow me to your seats, please."

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"Sir, your Hangtown Fry. Miss, your Sole with Rosemary (I picked these out of a book). Enjoy." The waiter slinked away, leaving the couple behind. Chris propped himself up on his arms, watching Jill as she ate. She looked happy as she took the first bite, and then pleasantly surprised after chewing, probably by the taste. This made Chris feel relieved. He had been hoping she'd like the restaurant. He continued to watch for a few more seconds before she realized that he was watching her.

"What are you doing?" She asked suspiciously.

"Nothing. I just wanted to know you liked the place."

"By watching me eat?" Jill raised a brow. "You could've just asked." She smiled at him before taking another bite. "I don't care what you ordered, you should have ordered this!" Chris chuckled and finally began to eat his food. _We need some wine._

"Waiter!" Chris called. This would make it perfect. Chris turned his head as the waiter came closer and just like in the movies ordered a bottle of their best white wine.

"You drink wine?" Jill asked bemused.

"No, but I just thought I might try it, given the opportunity. Plus you've been asking me to try it. You don't mind, right?"

She took a second to think about it. "No I don't mind, but isn't this gonna be expensive?"

"Yeah, but I got it; don't worry," Chris said smiling. At that moment the waiter returned with a bottle of Chardonnay. _This is gonna be a steep bill. _Chris shook his head, trying to convince himself it was all worth it.

About forty-five minutes later, the two were mostly finished with their food. They had spent most of the time talking and laughing, although, they were only on their third glass of wine. At the moment, Jill was in the bathroom leaving Chris to eat and think to himself. The night was going by well, obviously. Both were enjoying the food as well as the wine, they talked about various strange things like Pete's sexual preference, the TV shows in London and Wesker's weird fetishes. The little talk about Wesker's strange habits had brought a memory up into Chris' mind about a time when Wesker had fallen asleep in the office and had whimpered something like, "again, but with the peanut butter". It had startled Chris to the core, giving him bad nightmares for a few days. Hopefully the nightmares wouldn't return.

"Can I sit here?" Ed asked, scratching himself.

"Yeah, Jill's in the…" _Wait, what the hell?_ Chris looked up to see Ed standing beside him. "Ed! What the hell are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to borrow some money," Ed said innocently.

"I can't do that, I gotta pay for this."

"Oh come on, just a few p (pence), maybe a pound or two…"

"No!" Chris said wide eyed. This was it; if Jill found caught Ed there would be mild hell to pay. Then in the cab he would get the rest of it. "Get outta here before Jill comes back!"

"Just let me sit here with ya. She won't even notice I'm here," Ed said pulling a chair next to Chris. _Yeah, right; like Jill won't notice a car parked next to me._

---------------------------------------------------

"Chris?" Jill had returned. Seeing Ed, she frowned. "Ed, why are you here?" Chris was about to say something before Jill put her hand up. "I get it, you're gay, aren't you Chris." It was not question, more of a statement.

Chris grimaced at the thought. "This is what you said to Pete, huh? So what; is this like your new catch phrase or do you really think I've pulled a George Michael? Cuz you know I'll prove to you that I'm not gay." A small grin spread across Chris' face as he finished.

"You can prove it to me anytime you want." Jill smirked. This caused Ed to raise a brow, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"Jus' don't do it in front of me…unless I have a video camera and your consent to put it on the internet."

"As long as I don't know you're there, you can do whatever you want, Ed." Chris said, smiling at Jill. Instead of retaliating in some rude comment, however, Jill just turned to Ed, saying, "You know, Ed, if you lost some weight, I might let you join us."

"No, he doesn't like you; you're twenty-five. He'd rather get it on with my aunt, who is something like _fifty_-five," Chris laughed, watching as Ed gave him the finger.

"Is it my fault your aunt is as sweet as chocolate? Well, I'm goin to the Winchester, then. Thanks, Chris." He turned, and quietly left the two to their dinner. _At least he's gone now. Wait, why'd he thank me?_

Jill sighed and wiped her hand with a napkin. "Maybe we should get going," she suggested. They had stayed a while longer after Ed had left, continuing to talk and laugh about things, like what had happened while Ed was there. Chris looked at his watch and saw that they'd only been there an hour. It was kind of a short stay, but then again, she was the one who said that they should go. He called a waiter over, asking for the bill.

It _was_ a steep bill, one-hundred-ten pounds. Chris reached behind him to grab – _my wallet!_ In disbelief he groped in vain at his back pocket to find nothing there. It was impossible. He clearly remembered grabbing the wallet while changing, and he could have sworn that the lump he'd been sitting on was his wallet. Chris searched his memory trying to figure out what had happened. He _had_ grabbed the wallet; he _had_ been sitting on the lump that _was_ his wallet. And if he remembered correctly, however, the lump seemed to have disappeared after…

"Oh that fat bastard!" Chris scowled.

"What? What happened?" Jill asked, concerned.

"Ed! While we were talkin dirty, he must have snatched my wallet!" Chris exclaimed. A small, but terrible realization dawned on him. "That's why he thanked me! I'm gonna kill him!"

"Just tell the Asian guy at the counter, he seems to like us maybe he'll let it slide. Then _we'll_ kill Ed," Jill said.

That's it; the Asian guy had been nice to them, even though they'd laughed at him. Perhaps he would let them off.

Approaching the desk, Chris had what he thought was a miniature heart attack. The Asian man was gone, replaced by some other guy. The man had his back turned to them, but by the way his back was hunched over it looked as if he was sleeping.

"Uh, hey. I just wanted to talk to you about my bill…"

"Unnhh…" the man groaned slightly. Jill pointed out a glass of red wine spilt near by, suggesting he was drunk.

_Should they really be drinking on the job? Oh, damn, what's that smell? This guy must have shit himself or something. _"My friend came in a while back and stole my wallet so I was wondering if I could pay you guys tomorrow? My name is Chris Redfield; I might still be on the reservations list."

"Uuuuhh huuuhhh…" the man groaned again. Chris quickly took this as a yes. It wouldn't be his fault now, having been told that he didn't have to pay.

"Okay, thanks for understanding," Chris said turning to leave. Taking Jill by the hand, the two bolted out of the restaurant before anyone else could make them pay. The man behind the desk groaned again, this time turning around to reveal two chopsticks lodged in his neck and a piece of bloody flesh dangling from his lower lip.

* * *

AN- Yeah. I don't know pounds. I don't know if 110 pounds is a lot, but i'm guessing it is since pounds are worth more then American dollars. Shit, I don't even think they use pounds anymore -I think they use euros! 


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